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Thistle
I could’ve done better so instead I give it in tithes I still hear your thorns brushing in the walls of the shiel Robbing you of your heart was certainly a heist I wish It was my neck that would’ve faced the sieth But I hope my grief will leave you a tilth
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Butter heart
The yellow drips in a slow rhythm Burnt curdling out of the giant chasm Seared to the swivel So never brittle Giving in to clear erotism
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Origami skys
The sky has crumpled Endless folds shape the downpour And winds cut right through
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Lace border
Agate stones will rend your eyes for love To let madhouse colors in the glove White wire wraps your wrists As the corner twists You may leave your shell as a dove
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Penella burnet
I flutter over your bones and they fray out of their weak pale skin so close to the reaper you are swallowed in his spindly arms I dance upon his head hoping he makes this painful and thin I watch as the opal light leaves your eyesI wish I had your charms to see death…
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All it comes to
Corn churns into ash Letting life return to dust And growth be no more
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The lady in the howlite portrait
as thorns of black crave down her face like shattered and faded china her spiraling white locks pour down her face like a frozen train wreck in a constant state of depression waiting for her spring to come back the carved out tears looks as if your spilling an endless abundance waiting for the pale…
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I can’t have blossoms in February
the buttercups could’ve blossomed freely if it was just me you deserved so much better than this led in a blaze your petals grown so much brighter than mine ever so young I would’ve rather crashed into the flames would rather go than hear a buttercup brighten and die and I can only spend life…
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Weevil
Worst are when the trees are too high blazing in the autumn sun Even with hope though it’s not easy to get past the branches Embrace the bark and as each piece flakes upon stepping on it Value the time you have with the leaves now a few bites can’t hurt Illustrious paintings of red…
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The man in the pipes
I can hear the sounds of your teeth as you strain against the pipes Never a smile on your face just a look of indifference to drown everything But you continue to pulse against the steel only adding to your stress But through your misery your bile spills from your rib cage Melting everything below…